


That Dear Octopus

by westernredcedar



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: AU: Post-DH, F/F, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-04-29
Updated: 2008-04-29
Packaged: 2017-11-09 02:21:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/450196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/westernredcedar/pseuds/westernredcedar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Severus has cultivated a life isolated from his family, but now his estranged mother and grandmother have rescued him from the brink of death. Oh, and then there is Remus...</p>
            </blockquote>





	That Dear Octopus

**Author's Note:**

> Written for lupin_snape Family Fest, 2008. I was inspired by two of the prompts, which are at the end, because they are misleading and possibly spoilery. Thank you to my dear blpaintchart for the beta/brit-pick and general helpfulness and support. *kiss*

_~~ The family - that dear octopus from whose tentacles we never quite escape, nor, in our inmost hearts, ever quite wish to. ~Dodie Smith_ ~~

**Leonora**

“He needs you, Leonora. Run!” There was a sound, stone crashing against stone, and the two women jerked their heads around to look down the corridor. The fighting was moving closer.

“Come with me, Minerva.” Leonora Malfoy stretched her crooked, bejeweled fingers out towards the woman following behind her.

“I cannot. I’m needed here.” Minerva’s skin was icy, her hand gripped Leonora’s like a talon.

“He’ll decide I’m there to finish him off and run in the other direction. I know the stubborn sod.”

“He will trust you. There is no time for this.” Minerva’s voice had none of her accustomed softness in it, and Leonora winced. “He has always asked after you, in his way. Assure him you are there to help, and he will allow it, I've no doubt.”

“Am I supposed to simply leave you here to be killed?” Leonora pursed her mouth in an attempt to mask her panic.

Minerva’s steely armour slipped for a moment. “I am not afraid, Leo. You of all people know that I can face what is coming. I will be fine. Go and find him.”

Leonora attempted a smile. “You tough old bat.” She leaned in and kissed Minerva’s thin, pinched lips, leaving a bright red stain. “I will find you within the hour. No dying, thank you very much.” She waggled a finger to keep from crying.

Minerva nodded once. “I wouldn't dare." There was another crash, and a cry, and Minerva spun around and dashed down the corridor towards the noise, towards the battle.

Leonora watched Minerva hurry off, her long neck held high and proud for several moments before she shifted into her cat form and bounded down the staircase. Tearing her gaze away, Leonora moved quickly in the other direction. She had to safely make her way in the direction Minerva had described, and quickly too. She was not as fleet of foot as she had been in her younger days, but she was no ninny either; for a ninety-year old witch, she could hold her own.

Severus was in trouble, and Leonora was damned if she would let her stubborn git of a grandson die, not if there was a chance that she could save him.

 

**Eileen**

Eileen Snape was mashing roots, making a base for her latest order from Mungo’s. Her shoulders and back ached with the effort of grinding the pestle. The air smelled of rain and new growth, one of the first true spring days, and she had moved her operation into the garden.

A flap of wings brushed by her ear. Gertrude, a scruffy grey owl she had not seen in over ten years, landed at her feet.

The owl looked up from under the workbench and hooted kindly in recognition.

“Gertrude?” She hooted again. Eileen sat for a long moment, staring at the owl and the note she carried, knowing full well who it was from, before she wiped her sticky hands and grabbed the parchment attached to the owl's leg.

_Darling!_

_Please don't Incendio this letter. I know you'd rather have your tits trampled by a Hippogriff than speak to me, but it is vital that we ignore our differences for now!  
Our Severus is innocent of all his apparent nastiness. He is certainly injured, and he may be in mortal danger. I'm apparating to Hogwarts immediately. Bring your healing potions and your skills and meet me on the path to Hogsmeade._

_Your loving Mother, Leo_

Several words had been scratched out, and Eileen had to read the note through twice before she made sense of it.

She had assumed she would receive a note from her mother one day, although she had expected it to say, _Your son is dead_ , or _Your son is imprisoned for life in Azkaban_ , or _Everything your son has done is your fault_ , and she had wondered how she would react when it came, how she would decide what to do or say.

Taken by surprise, it seemed that she did not need to think it over at all.

Eileen walked in her calm and patient stride towards the house, pulling off her apron, untying her knot of hair and winding it into a thin braid as she bustled into her storeroom. She pulled bottles and jars from the shelves in precise order, stacking them neatly on the counter. She removed a small satchel from the corner and stacked the items inside, neither rushing, nor wasting a breath or a movement. She strapped the satchel closed, pleased to see her hands were holding steady, flung the bag over her body, and walked in her even stride to the parlor. Her wand was where she had left it.

She stopped for a moment before apparating, and closed her eyes.

She had not seen her son in twenty years.

She spun in a tight whirl, and disapparated.

 

**Severus**

His mind slowly eased itself out of the blackness, stubbornly refusing to give in to the empty, endless dark. His eyes creaked open. Colours swirled and congealed and formed shapes. A spiral bedpost, a window, a tree beyond, a glass of water, a potion bottle, a crumpled wash rag.

A woman.

His mother.

His mother, sitting at his bedside, stitching a large needlepoint. This was hallucination. Her sinewy hands worked the needle in flashing strokes.

He licked his dry lips and swallowed. “Mother.” His voice was a coarse whisper.

She looked up. Her eyes were dark and sunken. Her once stern face had turned craggy and sour, small creases on her forehead and cheeks had sharpened into crevasses, like a gothic spire slowly eaten away by pollution and time.

“Mother,” he repeated.

His eyes could not hold focus. She was reaching down for something, a wand, and in her deep, soothing voice, a voice from his dreams, she said, “Sleep.”

The blackness returned.

 

**Eileen**

Severus had been dead when they arrived, cold, and bloody, and dead, and Eileen discovered then that finding your child dead is in fact the absolute worst thing that can happen to a human being.

She had frozen solid with the pain, the finality of it, unable to move from the doorway. Her mother had somehow found the strength to kneel by that poor broken body, and touch it, and find a spark of life in it. Leonora had screamed at her to move, but Eileen could not cross the threshold, and Leonora had been forced to stand and slap her in the face to get her to help.

Eileen had watched the remainder of their time in that horrible shack as if she were floating above the scene, observing herself and her mother apply potions and insert the bezoar and cast spell after spell over Severus, _her baby, such a small, dark creature, who liked to stroke her chest and mew as he sucked_ , until his chest was rising and falling on its own, and his cheeks were a dusty pale, rather than ice blue.

Eileen heard her own voice speaking, but the words sounded like nonsense.

 

**Leonora**

Exhausted from their efforts, Leonora had stood, leaned against the wall of the rotten shack, and watched as her daughter cast a few final spells to stem the bleeding. It was shocking that so much blood could come out of such a thin, lean body, pooling in a foul halo around Severus's still form. Eileen’s hands, running over Severus’s throat, were knobby, spotted, an old woman’s hands.

Her daughter was old.

Most days, Leonora could convince herself that she was still a young woman. She felt young, after all, she had the energy of a younger woman, she wore bright colors, and left her hair loose, and laughed, and danced, and flirted, and changed her nail color every four days. She was still an important and active member of society. But faced with her own daughter, who looked tired and lined as old parchment, Leonora could not pretend.

She had wanted to have a child to make a point, an axis-shifting point, at a time when a witch, alone, was not supposed to have a child. It was not until Eileen was older that she discovered human beings do not appreciate being created to make a point.

Now Eileen was making her own point, marking off the years for Leonora in an exhausting race towards death. Perfect revenge. 

“We can take him to my home.” Eileen had wiped her sweat-streaked brow and looked at her mother. “He will need several days to recover.”

“Where do you live?”

Eileen did not meet her mother’s eyes as she stated the address of the house to which Leonora had never been invited.

“I will meet you there, darling.” Leonora helped Eileen pull Severus’s limp form up from the pool of gore. She clasped her daughter's hand, then stepped away. “I must go back to the castle to find…”

“Yes. Mother.” Eileen’s lips disappeared into a familiar thin line as she held her son against her shoulder, his blood staining her blue robes. “You would need to go. Come to us when you have a moment to spare.”

With a swirl, she and Severus were gone.

For the first time in years, Leonora had felt the ache and creak of her bones as she limped back towards Hogwarts.

 

**Severus**

Voices crept back in. He grabbed onto them like a life raft on an inky dark sea.

“…point of keeping this vigil, Eileen. He needs to eat.”

“He should have nothing more than broth, mother.”

“I am aware of that, darling. Please. I did manage to feed _you_ without incident all those years.”

"So you say, mother." 

“I’ve asked you to call me Leo for how long now? Sixty years?”

“Wake him then, _Leo_. He is only asleep.”

Severus heard the two voices as if down a long tunnel, both female, both as easily recognized as his own shadow.

“I do hate to wake him. When he sleeps, he looks just as he did when he was a boy, doesn’t he?”

“No. He does not.”

Severus’s mind struggled to surface through the haze and mist. He breathed in, hard.

“I am not…” he croaked, and managed, with effort, to crack open his eyes, “…asleep.” He saw their two familiar faces through the mist before he lost his fight and closed his eyes, falling back into blackness.

 

**Eileen**

He was not dead. _He was not dead._

She’d never thought she would have a second chance, and now, she didn’t have the faintest notion what to do.

So. She sat in her chair and rocked and stitched, and watched her son’s slow, even breathing.

 

**Severus**

People had been watching him sleep, but Severus was acutely aware that they were the _wrong_ people, that the _right_ person had not watched him sleep for quite some time. Whoever this person was, she was an acceptable alternative for now, however, and with little fear he opened his eyes.

The spiral bedpost. This room.

His mother had been here. He remembered that.

This was not his mother, with her dark stringy hair and her deep-set, anxious eyes. This was his grandmother, with her long gray-blonde hair, and her grey eyes and her laugh lines and her outrageous lavender and peach robes. She sat at the foot of the bed, just watching him.

When she reached out to stroke his lower leg, her bracelets jangled.

“Severus, darling.” Her voice had the silky smooth tone that betrayed her as a Malfoy. The voice and the eyes. And the hair. She looked the part. It was everything else about her that had alienated her from the family she had been born into. “You are awake.”

“Grandmother,” he said, and found using his voice was less painful than it had been the first time he awoke.

“You must be hungry, darling.”

“You have been attempting to feed me all day,” Severus replied, trying to sit up and dizzily realizing that his body was not ready for that much motion quite yet.

“You have been asleep for several days.”

“How many?”

“Five.”

Five days.

“What happened?” he asked at last.

“Voldemort was defeated. He is gone.” She said it tentatively, passively. They were still unsure of his loyalties. Understandably.

“Would you repeat that?” he asked.

“Voldemort is dead, Severus. For good this time, or so it seems.”

For a moment he thought he might float up from the bed he felt so light. “Good,” he said, to calm his grandmother’s fears, and breathed in deeply.

She breathed as well.

After a long silence, Severus asked, “Minerva?”

Leonora smiled. “She is safe. She survived, the plucky old bird, and took down a few bits of nastiness during the battle as well.”

Severus nodded. “I’d like to speak with her. Could you arrange a visit?”

“Minerva is not invited to visit here.” Leonora’s voice was clipped.

“Where are we?” Severus peered around the plain bedroom.

“Your mother’s house.”

“Ah.” Then he looked up, puzzled. “I thought you were not invited here either.”

“And I thought the same of you, darling, yet here we are.” She winked.

Severus leaned back against Eileen’s firm pillows. “Indeed.” He closed his eyes for a moment. “Will you give Minerva a message from me?”

“Of course.”

“Tell her that she is an admirable opponent.”

Leonora smiled. “You realize it was the fight with you that convinced her you were loyal?”

“Oh? And why was that?" 

“You never fought back, even when you were outnumbered. She realized it after it was over and you had gone. She believed you had flown towards Hogsmeade, and flooed me for help.”

“And you contacted Mother?”

“Yes, I did. Sorry darling, but she is the best healer I know.”

"Yes." Severus settled back and watched as Leonora reached down and grabbed a glass full of clear liquid. Ice rattled against the glass. He tensed. _What potion were they dosing him with?_

“What is in the glass?”

“Gin, dear.” She took a hearty swig.

“Ah.”

“It helps. With your mother.”

“I imagine.”

“Care for some?” She winked again, and held out the glass.

Severus gave his Grandmother a glare. “I have just returned from near death to find the world changed, the Dark Lord defeated, myself recuperating at the home of my estranged mother, and the first thing you do is offer me gin, Grandmother?” He raised a single eyebrow.

“Lime or lemon twist?” Leonora asked with a quirk of her lips, rising.

“Lime. Obviously.” Severus replied. “In my own glass.”

 

**Eileen**

From her desk, Eileen could hear Severus and Leonora conversing. He was really awake this time, it seemed.

_Roll, roll, tie. Roll, roll, tie._ Eileen had a batch of newsletters to send, and no time for this. She had stopped caring for Severus’s happiness long ago, after all. He was alive, and that was enough. A line of owls was congregating at her windowsill, and people relied on her to be prompt. She shut the door so that she would not have to hear her mother and Severus chatting like old friends, and continued rolling the parchment newsletters.

_Roll, roll, tie. Roll, roll, tie._

Much later, when he was asleep again and Leonora’s loud snores echoed down the corridor, she crept back into his room and sat in her chair for an hour, just watching.

 

**Severus**

He woke up shouting someone’s name. He knew that was wrong. He never shouted.

Clawing at the cold, empty space in the bed next to him, it took several moments to gather his wits together and remember where he was, and why he was alone. His breath came in fast pants, and he was coated in a sheen of sweat.

The dream was fading when Eileen walked into the room, tying her robe around herself with a tidy knot. She walked to his bedside without a word, sat in her chair, and picked up her needlepoint.

“Sleep, Severus. I will not leave.”

He watched her for a moment, rocking and stitching and avoiding his gaze.

“Who is dead, mother? Do you have a list?”

“Go to sleep. Do not trouble yourself.”

“Find me a list!”

“Knowing will not make any difference, Severus. They will all remain dead.”

“I insist you tell me.”

“No.” Eileen rocked steadily. 

Leonora cracked open the door then, her long hair hanging loose and tangled, a vivid kimono flying around her.

“What is going on in here, my dears? Is there a panic? Shouldn’t we all be in a glorious world of dreams?”

“Grandmother, who died at Hogwarts?” The nightmare was dissolving, but the image of Remus Lupin’s sightless eyes would not fade from his mind. Lupin could not be dead. He would know. He would have felt it, surely?

“Severus, it is three in the morning.”

“I will not sleep until I know.”

He watched his grandmother look intently at his mother, who was still working on her needlepoint and ignoring the conversation altogether. Leonora turned in a swirl of draping fabric and disappeared down the corridor.

The tick of a small clock marked the time, and Severus focused on the gentle rustle of Eileen’s hands moving along her stitches to keep from falling back into his nightmare.

In a minute, Leonora strode back into the room holding a copy of The Daily Prophet, already reading the first name as she took her place at the foot of the bed, her bracelets making an incongruously cheerful jingle. Severus briefly wondered if she wore them to bed.

“Armin Alderton, Colin Alexander Creevey…” It was an alphabetical list, and Severus knew every name on it. He felt his body go rigid as she moved through the names, saying them all in the same blank rhythm. “…Eugenia Ann Furmage, Thomas Guffy…” Each name fell with a dull thud on his chest rendering him immobile, “…Ellen Kirk, Chen-Hao Lu…” And then…

And then she passed the L’s without reading his name and the anvil on his chest soared up and away and in a haze of relief, the remaining names blurred into meaningless patter, like rain on the roof. He vaguely registered that Leonora sped past the P's without reading Potter's name, which would have been a shock were he were not so distracted by his ability to breathe. Leonora read on. 

“…Theodore Alan Stewart, Nymphadora Selene Tonks-Lupin, Remus John Tonks-Lupin, Frederick Gideon Weasley…”

Wait. 

Severus’s first thought was _Lupin, you sappy idiot, you would take a hyphenate name with your ridiculous accidental wife_ , before his body went cold and his vision began to white out and then he found himself blissfully floating up and away from the bed and that horrible litany of names. 

Those dead eyes.

Leonora’s voice had eased to a stop as she reached the end of the alphabet, and the room was quiet. From above, Severus almost laughed at the scene.

"Severus?" Leonora's voice was quiet.

“Happy now?” Eileen asked, still refusing to raise her eyes from her needlework.

Her bitterness was just what he needed to pull back into himself. Amazingly, his voice worked. “Yes, much improved. You may return to your rooms. I appreciate your efforts on my behalf, Grandmother. Good night.”

“Severus…” Leonora’s voice sounded dangerously close to caring and understanding. Her hand, sparkling with rings, was rubbing his foot.

“Good night,” he repeated, and closed his eyes. They had to leave. Now.

“Did you know…?” Leonora tried once more, and Severus pulled his foot away and turned his back to his Grandmother and her concerned eyes. “I just…” she said.

“Mother.” Severus could feel the dimensions of Eileen’s stare. “Enough.” Leonora’s weight was abruptly removed from the end of the bed, and her strong footsteps could be heard retreating to her room.

“Good night, Severus.” That was Eileen, and Severus could hear her steady stride to the door, then a pause, and then the door closing softly.

He counted slowly to one thousand before he let the first strangled sob escape.

 

**Eileen**

“Which one was it, darling? Do you think?” Leonora breezed into the kitchen at her usual late hour, the smell of late night gin and late morning incense mingling in the air around her.

Eileen was starting the kettle. “Which what, mother?”

“Which name was it? That upset Severus. Someone important to him, must be. Do you know which one?”

Eileen knew, but she did not want to know. She dropped her eyes to the tea tin and began stacking the tea bags into perfect columns with shaking fingers.

“Do you know, Eileen darling?”

“I don’t know.”

“But you have a good guess, I’d say.”

Eileen sighed and nodded. “Yes.” She felt her face burn red.

“Oh, for cock's sake, don’t tell me,” Leonora said, peering down at Eileen’s face, “it’s a man, and in all these years, you have never been able to even think about Severus being with a man without turning into a complete prudish little twittering twat, darling.”

Eileen looked up at her impossible mother, anger burning her cheeks. “No, mother, that is not it.”

“Ah, so something even more insulting?”

Eileen turned her back and walked away from Leonora to retrieve the newspaper from the side porch, counting her breaths to keep calm.

"We are all here now, Eileen, and it is high time we got past all of this nonsense..." Leonora's voice followed her to the door. Eileen hunched her shoulders and let her thin hair fall in her face, a posture she had worked hard to lose in the years after she broke off contact with her mother, but which she stepped back into like an old pair of shoes.

The owl had dropped The Daily Prophet on the doorstep. Eileen took a moment to take a few calming breaths of cool morning air, heavy with moisture, before she leaned over to pick it up. Unfolding the paper, she almost dropped it again. The headline read _Miracle at Mungo's: Werewolf Presumed Dead Lives_. Her heart dropped into her gut as she read on.

_Remus Tonks-Lupin, 38, a registered werewolf who was presumed killed in a fall during the Battle of Hogwarts, shocked the healers at St. Mungo’s by awakening in the morgue the day following the battle, hospital administrators revealed in a press release today._

_“We believe his lycanthropy kept him alive and promoted his healing. His vital signs were suppressed, almost as if he were in stasis while he healed. Now he is awake, walking and talking, as if he was never injured,” reported Chester Doolittle, the chief healer in charge of Mr. Tonks-Lupin’s case. “It is a unique opportunity for us to study the positive aspects of his condition.”_

_This case is likely to stir-up more debate around the controversial issue of Werewolf Rights. Already, a few members of the radical anti-werewolf group the New Moon Society are demonstrating outside the hospital, claiming that Mr. Tonks-Lupin’s stunning recovery is another example of why werewolves need strict regulation, including isolation in controlled habitats._

_“It is not natural for a man to come back from the dead,” said an anonymous New Moon Society member. “This is a good reminder to us all that he is not a human.”_

_Others claim this is a chance for wizards and witches to rejoice in the surprise survival of an ordinary man who was willing to give his life in the battle against You-Know-Who. “Mr. Tonks-Lupin is a loving father and good person,” said Healer Doolittle. “We are all thrilled that he has a second chance. He uses the Wolfsbane and is no threat to anyone.”_

_Mr. Tonks-Lupin, a former teacher whose controversial posting at Hogwarts ended in his resignation, is to be released from the hospital tomorrow. His wife, Auror Nymphadora Tonks-Lupin, was killed during the battle. The couple have a young son, Theodore, who has been housed with a foster family during the aftermath of the battle last week…_

“What has turned you pale as a mid-winter arse, darling?” Leonora’s footsteps echoed behind Eileen, and suddenly her mother was reading over her shoulder. Eileen tried to hide the paper, but was too slow.

“Remus Lupin?” Leonora asked, grabbing a corner of the paper. Eileen was so upset she could not meet her mother eyes. She knew her cheeks were white with fear and anger. “The werewolf? I met him once, with Minerva. What wonderful news! And I did not know he had married.”

Eileen turned away further, feeling angry tears start to sting her eyes. “Damn. Bugger ,” she hissed.

“Eileen? What has you so…? Eileen! What do you care…? Not that werewolf nonsense still, darling?”

Eileen folded the paper and whipped around, striding back into the kitchen to grab the kettle.

Leonora followed. “Darling, Remus Lupin isn’t the name that upset Severus, was it?”

In her haste, Eileen splashed boiling water onto her skin and gasped, dropping the kettle and clutching her hand in pain.

Leonora dashed to her side and pulled her to the sink. Eileen followed without a fight. Leonora turned on the tap and positioned Eileen’s hand underneath, letting the cool water run over the burn.

“Darling, where is your wand? You’ll do a tidier job of healing this than I ever could,” Leonora said with her wheedling smile. Eileen only stared at her mother’s long fingers cradling her burned hand, each finger decorated with a gaudy ring.

“I’m all right,” Eileen muttered. “The water is sufficient.” Her breathing was slowing. She met her mother’s eyes. “Release me. There are people I need to contact. Immediately.”

Leonora’s mouth thinned, and Eileen was horrified to see a hint of pity in her eyes. “Eileen, you are not still involved with those New Moon nutters, are you?”

Eileen ripped her throbbing hand out of her mother’s grip. “We are certainly not nutters, mother! In case you forget, a werewolf tried to kill my child.” The pain in her hand was sharp and helped her to focus. As she walked away, Leonora’s voice rang out, clear and loud.

“Remus Lupin _was_ the name that upset Severus, wasn’t it? Were they...?”

Eileen did not break her stride. Instead, she walked firmly up the stairs to her room, closed the door, and pulled out the parchment she used for her weekly newsletters, the New Moon Society letterhead printed in deep blue at the top. Grabbing a quill, she started to write. She did not allow herself to picture Severus’s blank agony when he had thought that horrible man was dead.

She took a deep breath and wrote in a steady hand. _Calling All New Mooners! Take Action Today! You may have heard of news of the so-called ‘Miracle at Mungo’s’…”_

 

**Remus**

_I am alive. Dora is dead. Teddy is alive. Severus is missing._ These thoughts played over and over in Remus’s head in an endless loop of joy and agony.

“You don’t need us anymore, Mr. Tonks-Lupin,” said Healer Doolittle as he handed over the discharge papers for Remus to sign. “You are operating at one hundred percent.”

“Thanks to your hard work,” Remus said with a weak smile. _Dora, Teddy._

“You did this yourself, Remus. We had very little to do with your recovery.” Healer Doolittle peeled apart the duplicating parchment and handed Remus a copy of the document. “I’ll want to see you in a week for a follow-up, just to be sure all is satisfactory. Your first transformation may be a bit rough as well.”

Remus nodded. _Severus, Me, Dora._

Healer Doolittle’s face softened. “Do you have anywhere to go when you leave here?”

Remus forced himself to smile. “I’m covered, thanks,” he lied. He had been living with Dora at her mother’s house, and Andromeda had not even contacted him in the hospital. He didn’t know where he would go.

Healer Doolittle clapped his hand on his shoulder. “Excellent! Well, take good care now, do you hear?"

“I will.” _Although why would I?_ Healer Doolittle strode out the door.

Remus grabbed the small bag of the personal effects he had on him when he was brought into the hospital and the folder of paperwork about Teddy’s foster placement, and stood. He felt a slight unease on his feet, as though his body was not yet his own again. He steadied himself and stepped out into the corridor.

“Remus Lupin?”

An older, garishly dressed witch was waiting outside his door. He recognized her, but it took him a moment to remember who she was.

“Leonora?” Remus asked.

She smiled and nodded, and his gaze was drawn to the enormous hoop earrings that swung crazily through her fine blonde hair.

“You remember me, darling! Thank Merlin for small favours.” Her voice was warm and deep.

“We met at…Filius’s Seder? Is that right? And of course, Minerva spoke of you often,” Remus said, holding out his hand. She had a firm handshake. “This is a surprise. What brings you to St. Mungo’s?”

“I’m here to collect you.”

Remus was struck dumb.

“The Prophet reported that you were being released today, and what little I know of you suggests that you may be in need of a temporary housing situation. I have an empty, overbearing manor house that could do with a houseguest. So! What do you say?”

Remus struggled to find his voice. He cleared his throat. “That is very generous. Did Minerva suggest this?”

“No.” Her grey eyes betrayed a slight hesitation. “I’m here on my own initiative.”

Remus’s eyebrows pinched together in confusion.

She started again, her voice more confident this time. “Very well, Mr. Lupin, with your fascinating, trusting eyes and your perplexed facial expressions. I’m not only Minerva’s partner.” Her lips gave a slight and oddly familiar twist. “We don’t advertise it much, but I am also Severus Snape’s grandmother.”

Remus needed to sit down.

“He broke off ties with me many years ago…I’m afraid I was a bit…much for the poor boy.”

“Severus is missing.” Remus’s mind had decided to stop trying to figure out what the hell was going on, and had reduced to the basic facts again. _I’m alive. Dora is dead. Teddy is alive. Severus is missing._

“He’s recovering at his mother’s house. Eileen and I have been caring for the ungrateful bugger.”

Remus needed to sit down. Now. His legs swayed dangerously, and, though she was tall and imposing, he doubted Leonora would be able to catch him if he fell over.

“I need a chair,” he stuttered. Leonora grabbed him with a surprisingly strong grip and steered him to a row of benches in the corridor.

“Breathe, darling. This is all good news, I hope,” said Leonora, wrapping a long arm around his shoulder and giving him a squeeze. “Come and stay with me and we’ll work it all out. I’m very old and very bored." She gave him a mischievous look that indicated that she was, in fact, neither and then added, "Don’t tell Minerva,” in a conspiratorial undertone. “I imagine taking you in will provide a rich amount of enjoyable chaos.”

Remus’s mind was wiped blank. _Teddy._ “But I have a son. I could never impose…”

“Nonsense. I know that of course. I would not offer if I did not expect your little boy to join you. I wish I could say I had some sort of grandmotherly affinity with babies, but I’m afraid they make me come out in a rash. I am willing to brave the little rugrat for you, though, darling.”

Remus shook his head, hard, attempting to clear his mind. This must be a dream. “Why are you doing this?”

Leonora’s ran long, blue fingernails through Remus’s hair. “You are the love of my grandson’s life, aren’t you?” she asked, and then patted his cheek. “It is the least I can do.”

“How did you…? Did he say…?” Remus stuttered. Leonora’s smiled again, and Remus realized that her mouth was an exact replica of Severus’s, from the wide, thin lips, to the subtle curl at the corners.

“He doesn’t even know you are alive, and I just guessed,” Leonora said with that almost imperceptible smirk. “But he _is_ excessively maudlin and pathetic thinking you are dead. Even for him!”

_I am alive. Dora is dead. Teddy is alive. Severus is alive._

Remus swallowed hard. “I will find my own place as quickly as I can, I promise.”

Leonora clapped her hands and laughed. “Excellent! Let’s get you home.” 

 

**Leonora**

Leonora sneaked Remus out of a little used side-door of St. Mungo’s, avoiding the group of New Moon Society morons waving signs out front, before Apparating him to the Manor. Remus didn’t need to be upset by any of that business.

Leonora had inherited the Manor in her father’s will. Everyone had believed her to be scoured from all Malfoy family records the same day she snogged Kathleen Trumbell in the Ravenclaw Common Room during a House meeting in 1925, so when her father’s will was read, many years later, no one was sure if old Tiberius had _forgotten_ to disinherit his daughter, or left her in just to cause the family grief.

Leonora, who had loved her gruff, handsome father, and deeply regretted their estrangement, liked to imagine he had left her in his will to let her know he had still loved her, carpet-muncher or no, but she knew that was only wishful thinking.

Whatever the reason, she had been the caretaker and often sole resident of drafty, cold Pallspire Manor for the past sixty years.

As they walked up the gravel path to the door, Leonora was amused to see Minerva was waiting for them to arrive, arms firmly crossed and jaw clenched.

“I knew that you were up to something,” Minerva said as a greeting, staring bullets at Leonora while pulling Remus into an embrace.

“You would,” Leonora replied.

Minerva’s voice softened as she turned to Remus. She held the tall man at arms length, gave him an approving once over, and said, “You look well, Remus. I cannot tell you how thrilled I am that you have survived, or how saddened I am for your loss.”

Remus smiled, and Leo noted how his eyes sparked with kind intimacy. Oh yes, Severus had always been a very picky boy.

“Thank you, Minerva,” Remus replied.

Leonora snorted. “Well, Miss Nosey-pants, since you are here, you may as well help an old woman out,” she snapped at Minerva as she strode past her into the foyer.

“Is Remus staying with you?” Minerva asked.

“Yes,” replied Leonora.

“Only until I can find a place of my own for me and Teddy,” Remus added, following after them.

Minerva stopped and stared at Leonora, an expression of disbelief on her pointed face. “Just a moment. You are willingly inviting a man and his _baby_ to live with you, Leonora Malfoy? What is this all about?”

“Would you please help Remus settle in the blue guest room, dear? Jolly will assist you if you call her,” Leonora continued. “There is an old crib in the attic, the one we used to put Severus in when he was," here she stopped a put on a Scottish brogue, "a wee mite." Minerva glared. "It should only need a good dusting. Have Jolly and Elphy bring it down.”

“Leo, whatever you are…” Minerva started, her finger pointed in Leonora’s face.

Remus had been standing to the side grasping his small bag of personal items. Now Leonora was grateful that he piped up and said, “Minerva, I really would appreciate seeing my room. I’m rather wobbly I’m afraid.”

Eyes still squinted towards Leonora, Minerva pulled herself away and took Remus’s arm. “Of course, dear,” she said.

“I’ll return in two shakes, darlings, and then we'll see to collecting this Teddy person. I've a bit of business to do at Eileen’s first.” Leonora winked at Remus as she turned for the door and Apparated away.

 

**Remus**

Sitting alone on the edge of the canopied bed in the enormous guest room he had been offered, Remus ran the litany of facts over in his head once more.

_I am alive. Dora is dead. Teddy is alive. Severus is alive._

Outside the window, the tall trees swayed in the wind. A storm was picking up.

_Severus is alive._

There was a soft knock at the door and two healthy-looking, fully-clothed house elves trundled in hauling an antique wooden crib, which they placed by the bedside. The two bowed to Remus, then exchanged glances, giggled, and ran out.

Minerva passed them coming into the room, carrying a tray with a large pot of tea and two cups.

“Tea, Remus?” she asked.

“Please.”

“Perhaps now you can tell me what is going on, and why my dear Leo has discovered a passion for taking in homeless werewolves and their children?” she asked, as she placed the tray on a side table and started to pour.

Remus sighed, and stood up to collect his tea. He might as well start at the beginning.

“Shall we sit?” he asked.

Minerva nodded, stirring her tea, and took a seat in one of the winged armchairs in the corner. Remus sat down across from her and took his time adding sugar and milk to his tea. It settled his nerves. Yes, he really was here, and this really was happening. _I am alive. Dora is dead. Teddy is alive. Severus is alive._ With a deep breath, he began.

“Do you remember when I was a student and you came across me kneeling in front of Severus in the dungeons, and I told you I was helping him sew on a button...?"

 

**Leonora**

A stack of at least ten brooms filled the entryway when Leonora arrived back at Eileen’s house. Eileen had company. As Leonora walked past the sitting room, snippets of bombastic conversation followed her up the stairs.

“…further proof of the dangers of these beasts…”

“…powers humans don’t have…”

“…full moon is in a few days…”

“…act now...we can make a difference…any suggestions…?”

Leonora bit her lip in frustration and rolled her eyes, listening to them. At the top of the stairs, she stopped in her room for her stash of gin and yesterday’s newspaper before knocking quietly on Severus’s door.

“Enter.” His voice was much more firm and commanding today. She smiled and pushed open the door. The loud voices of Eileen’s guests boomed in the door with her. Severus appeared to have just opened his eyes.

“Did I wake you, darling?” she asked.

“What is that racket?” He pulled himself up to a seated position against the carved headboard.

“Your mother is entertaining some friends.” Leonora shut the door, cutting off the raised voices from downstairs.

“My mother has never had any friends.”

“It is a meeting. Her…group.”

“Her group?” Severus’s face stiffened into an intense frown, and Leonora realized for the first time that her little grandson was no longer a boy, but a wounded and hardened _man_. She felt old again. “Not still that group?”

Leonora sat on the edge of the bed and held out the bottle in her hand. “I brought the gin.”

“I refuse to believe it.”

Leonora sighed. “I hoped she was no longer involved with those New Moon Society nutters as well.” She unscrewed the cap of the gin and took a swig. “Especially considering this.” She held up the Daily Prophet for Severus to read.

She watched him as he took in the _Miracle at Mungo’s: Werewolf Presumed Dead Lives_ headline once, then twice, then grabbed the paper from her hands, his brows pulling together in concentration as he read the article that followed. She sipped the gin as his eyes scanned the article, jumping back up to the headline several times.

His mouth started to work as if he wanted to speak, and he looked up at her, his eyes glassy and shining. He was shaking, his jaw muscle pulsing rapidly.

“Why should I care about this?” he asked, his voice weak.

“Severus, darling, don’t be dense. Obviously I’ve worked it all out.” Leonora took another swig off the gin and winked at her pale grandson.

“Is this a fraud?”

“No.”

“Where is he?” His voice was a coarse whisper of pain.

“My house, darling. Minerva is staying with him this evening. Shall I bring him to see you?” Leonora could not help but give herself permission to smirk at the base look of longing in Severus’s eyes.

“Your house?”

“He needed somewhere to stay. I do not think you are quite up for coming to the Manor yet, but I'm sure he is perfectly able to make his way here.” 

From downstairs, there was a round of thunderous applause, followed by a cacophony of raised voices. They both turned their heads towards the door at the sound. The meeting must be breaking up.

“Need I remind you his sort is not welcome in this house, Grandmother?”

“On the contrary, darling,” Leonora said with a smile, patting Severus’s leg. “I believe that his presence is exactly what this house needs.”

 

**Severus**

_Lupin is alive._

Alive, and a widower, with a baby. The news was too much take in, so as soon as his Grandmother left, Severus shoved all thoughts of Lupin down and locked them away in the deep well of his mind. He focused instead on the simpler, more immediate news about his mother's activism, news he could comprehend, and rail against.

News that didn’t change the entire course of his life.

_Lupin is alive._

Damn. He shook his head, trying to rattle the thought away.

So.

His mother. Yes.

So, his mother was still holding a grudge all these years later, still rallying ignorant bigots to pester the Ministry and harangue the werewolf population with niggling laws and limitations, all over an incident that had been resolved years before.

As much as he hated her for it, Severus could not help but admire Eileen for her persistence.

Mustering all the strength in his weak body, Severus pulled himself out of bed on his own for the first time. He waved off the light-headed rush he felt when he rose to his feet. Seeing the world from his own height again, under his own power, even for a moment, sent a jolt of energy through him. He inhaled and then teetered over to the easy chair in the corner of the room, bringing Leonora’s copy of the Daily Prophet with him. Arranged in the chair, the newspaper displayed prominently across his lap, he sat waiting for his mother to come in.

He listened to the clink and stomp and slam of Eileen tidying up downstairs after her meeting. The last voices had died away.

Severus gripped the arms of the chair to stop himself from reading and re-reading the article his Grandmother had given him. He could glance down and see _that name_ and the word _alive_ in the same paragraph, and that was enough for now.

At last, he heard the slow rhythm of his mother’s footsteps as she made her way up the stairs and down the corridor. Her footsteps sounded tired. Severus pulled himself up in the chair, his body stiffening, wishing he felt strong enough to stand and confront her. Wishing he felt strong enough to storm out.

The door swung open.

 

**Eileen**

His bed was empty. Severus was gone. She had lost him again.

A black wave of memory crashed over her, and suddenly she was standing in the doorway of his untidy bedroom back in 1977, staring at his empty bed, and her baby boy was really gone, and was never coming back. Eileen was thankful her hand was still on the doorknob so that she had something to hold onto as her vision blurred and faded to white.

Then someone cleared his throat and she was flung back into the crystal-clear present. She spun towards the sound.

He was not gone this time. He was still there, in the chair by the window, a grown man.

Severus’s expression was bitterly angry, but Eileen was so relieved to see him that she couldn’t bring herself to care.

 

**Severus**

“When exactly were you going to inform me, Mother?” He had been practicing what he was going to say to her for the past two hours.

“Severus.” She clutched at her chest for a moment. “I thought for a moment that you’d gone.” She looked pale, Severus noted, even for her, but he continued on.

“Did you really think you could keep this from me?” He gestured towards the newspaper, where Lupin glanced up at them from his photograph.

“You are not gone,” she continued, as if she had not heard him.

Severus faltered, thrown off his plan by her failure to engage him. “No, I…don't...Mother, I know who those people were downstairs.”

“You don’t ever have to leave. You are welcome to stay, Severus.” Her voice was soft and…scared? Severus frowned.

“Mother…”

“I never wanted you to leave me. Not even back then.”

Severus did not understand what it was she expected to get from him by using such a sappy confessional tone, but this blatant falsehood allowed him to find his footing in the conversation again. “Mother, when I was eighteen years old you told me to leave your house and never return. "Get out, you disgusting queer, if you care so much about a filthy werewolf," was not a statement that left any room for misinterpretation.”

Eileen’s face froze, and her eyes cleared, as if she realized where she was for the first time.

“Do not speak to me in that tone, Severus Tobias,” she said, and Severus breathed in relief that she was going to fight back at last.

“I will speak to you any way I wish, _Mother_. From your current actions, it appears that in the past twenty years, you have not learned a thing. You are still a judgmental, bitter woman trying to control me instead of admitting that it is _your_ life that has been the utter disappointment.” There, he was back on script at last.

“Severus!”

He stood up, waving the newspaper in her pale face. “Your little group of petty-minded extremists was meeting here to plot and plan harassing Remus Lupin, wasn’t it, Mother? It's all about him still, after all these years, isn't it?”

“Well, I’d ask you the same thing!”

Their twin sneers locked into each other and Severus was humiliated by how much he wanted to stamp his feet and scream in her face. But he wasn’t a damned teenager anymore.

“I’m leaving.”

He took one step towards the door, but at the sudden movement blood rushed the wrong direction and the world tilted sideways and his knees gave way. Then, unlike every other time he had fallen in his life, thin, wiry arms caught him before he hit the ground, and held him up.

 

**Eileen**

He knew all her faults better than she knew them herself, but she could not force her mouth to form the words that would admit weakness. Instead she simply grabbed him close as he started to fall.

She was his mother, after all, and that was her job.

His full weight shifted onto her body and his thin arms wrapped around her, and she pretended, just for a moment, that the embrace was because she was his mother, and not because he would collapse to the floor otherwise.

She held her baby, and whispered, “I have you, you won't fall,” and laid him back on his bed, adjusting the covers around him. She did not wish for him to notice that the crush of love in her chest was making it difficult for her to breathe.

The knock on the door startled them both.

Leonora poked her head in, a sly smile on her lined face, and Eileen felt herself flush with anger that her mother would interrupt them at this moment.

And then she saw the man standing behind her mother in the doorway.

No. Not a man.

Bile rose precipitously in her throat, and she could not swallow it down, so Eileen stood in a fluid motion and strode out of the room, silently pushing past Leonora in the doorway, avoiding touching the creature standing at her shoulder.

Leonora’s bellow of, “Eileen! Come back!” chased her down the corridor and into the bathroom. She slammed the door, heaved the contents of her stomach into the basin, and sank to the cold floor.

Eileen counted quietly to herself, trying to slow her breathing and settle her churning stomach.

_That beast is in my house._ A branch scraped against the frosted window. There was a storm outside. Eileen leaned back against the towels and closed her eyes.

 

**Severus**

Lupin was standing in the doorway. _Lupin was standing in the doorway._

Severus thought his head might still be muddled from his near-collapse, but it really did appear to be Lupin. He blinked hard, and the image did not disappear.

Leonora looked back and forth between them several times, took Lupin’s hand and whispered, “Here you are, dear. Why don’t I go and deal with my charming daughter?” before backing out of the room without further ceremony.

The door shut softly behind her. Lupin was still there. His eyes were just as golden brown as they’d ever been.

“Your mother still doesn't seem too fond of me." Always the master of the understatement. His voice was its familiar deep rasp.

“No.”

It had been almost a year since they had last met face-to-face. Lupin looked thin and a bit weather-beaten, as if he’d walked through a storm.

He was someone’s father now.

Severus opened his mouth to speak, but nothing he could think of was the right thing to say, so he closed his mouth, but didn’t look away.

 

**Remus**

Severus was pale as parchment, and the wound on his throat was red and ugly and terrifying. He had stopped Minerva from telling him too much about what had happened that horrible day. He couldn’t take the guilt, knowing he had been there and hadn’t been able to stop any of it from happening.

Guilt seemed to be his primary emotion these days.

Other than the scars, Severus looked like himself: dark, shielded eyes, long, thin face, that glorious nose. His stringy hair was draped all over the pillows and needed a wash and trim. Somehow, Remus thought the past year would have changed him more, shown on his face, but he appeared to be the same old stubborn Severus lying there. Remus’s heart hurt at the realization that he must have been his same old self all along.

Their quiet contemplation lasted an unusually long time, and the silence settled in between them as if it was planning to stay. Remus could not think of a single thing to say to Severus that would even begin to cover what needed to be said, so he remained silent and walked over to the edge of the bed.

When he sat down, Severus did not move away, or break eye-contact, or make a sound. Remus watched the even rise and fall of his chest under the blanket, felt his own heartbeat slow to match that rhythm.

Some time later, minutes maybe, or an hour, Remus lay down on the bed next to Severus, stretching his body out alongside him and resting one hand on Severus’s chest.

Sometime after that, Remus felt Severus place a cool hand over his.

Sometime after that, they slept.

 

**Leonora**

Leonora retreated down the stairs, infinitely pleased with herself. She chuckled as she wrote a quick note and sent it off with one of Eileen’s owls, then put on the kettle and settled herself at the kitchen table to wait for Eileen to reappear. She tapped her long fingernails against the wood as the time ticked past, and then distracted herself by charming each nail a different color so that her hands formed a bright rainbow.

Leonora tried not to wonder what might be going on up in the guest bedroom at that moment. In her head, a stern voice rather like Minerva’s repeated, _It isn’t proper for a Grandmother to wonder such things, Leo dear._ So instead, she thought about starting on her toe nails.

When the kettle whistled, she pulled out two large mugs. She could not have enough tea ready. Eileen was certain to be in a towering fury.

After a few more minutes, the woman herself appeared in the kitchen doorway, pale and shaky. She glared at Leonora, but did not speak, instead pouring herself a glass of water at the sink, swishing with it, and spitting it out. With crisp, deliberate movements, she strode to the table and sat down across from Leonora, picking up the offered tea. They both sipped in tense silence for a moment. Then, they both spoke at once.

“How dare you…”

“Darling, I…”

Leonora rolled her eyes and sipped her tea again. “Please, dear, go ahead. Ladies first."

Eileen’s eyes had reduced to slits and she started again. “How dare you bring that thing into my house, Mother.”

Leonora cocked her head and sighed. How was this person her daughter? “By ‘thing’ am I to assume you mean the lovely man upstairs who appears to make your son ridiculously happy?”

“You know how I feel about his sort.”

“You mean queers?”

“You know what I mean.”

“Oh, so you are perfectly tolerant of homosexuals, you just don’t like werewolves.”

“This is my home, Mother, and I will not be disrespected here.”

“Well, this is my world, darling, and _I_ will not be disrespected _here_.”

Leonora could almost see the floodgates open and Eileen’s misery start to pour out. “This is not about you, Mother. Not everything is about you and your damned personal life.”

“When have I ever dragged you into my personal life?”

“Please. When haven’t you?”

“That is bollocks.”

“You shagged my _teacher_ , Mother! My teacher!”

“She was only your teacher for one year.”

“I was mortified.”

“In case you hadn’t noticed, darling, I’m still shagging ‘your teacher’ over forty years later. I dare say that means my relationship with her is not simply about embarrassing _you_.”

“Have you worked out yet that every sodding member of my immediate family is gay but me?”

“Well, we tried, dear, but there was just no turning you…”

“Mother!”

“Don’t forget your Tobias.”

“Tobias is dead, Mother. He does not count.”

“But he was quite heterosexual, you’ll admit.”

“Yes, mother, he was everything you are not.”

“By that you mean he was abusive, miserable, controlling…?”

“Shut up, Mother. I want you out of this house.”

“You run off and marry the first man with a pulse who looks at you twice, never mind that he is the biggest bastard this side of the globe…”

“He didn’t care that I was a witch, or a disgraced Malfoy, or fatherless…”

“You are not fatherless!”

“Oh that's right, there is some poofter off in the south of France named Robert Prince who donated his genes to your experiment. How could I forget?”

“Rob told me he wanted to be your father, darling. Otherwise I would have selected someone much less short. How could I have known he would realize he preferred French rent boys to changing nappies after a few months?”

“You wanted to have a child, _Leo_ , no matter what the consequences, just to shock everyone. Oh scandal! That loud lesbian had a baby! Horrors! That’s not allowed! But you never wanted to be my _mother_." Her eyes narrowed. "Having a child and being a mother are not the same thing.”

“Don’t you feed me that tripe. You never wanted me to be your mother. You wanted some other mother, some boring biddy who made cakes all day and darned socks and doted on your slippers-wearing father and never had an opinion of her own. Well, sorry, but you are stuck with me instead. No trade-ins on Mums.”

“Unfortunately.”

“Speaking of that, how _are_ things between you and your son, darling? All happiness and light I suppose, as you are such an expert on mothering?”

“We’d be perfectly fine if you were not here interfering.”

“If it wasn’t for my interfering, your boy would be dead now.”

“And if that thing upstairs had his way, Severus would have been dead twenty years ago.”

“What are you on about?”

“That…Lupin. He is the werewolf that almost killed Severus at Hogwarts.”

That stopped Leonora for a moment, flummoxed. "I didn't...not him?...I...you never said..."

“Yes.”

“The attack that started you on all this anti-werewolf nonsense?”

“Yes.”

"Remus _attacked_ Severus?"

"He is a vicious beast, Mother."

"But evidently he did not succeed."

"Severus was rescued."

"And this caused you to found the New Moon Society?"

"Yes."

"Ah. So, when in all this did Severus start boffing him?"

"Mother!"

"Just trying to get the story straight. So to speak."

"Well stop."

“That is quite a dramatic twist, darling, but I dare say Severus has forgiven him.”

“Well, _I have not_. I will never forgive him.”

“Who? Lupin? Or Severus?”

Eileen froze. “Why would I need to forgive Severus?”

“Because, darling, he committed a terrible crime against you. He fell in love with someone you despise.”

Eileen seemed to falter in doubt for a moment, opening her mouth to speak and then closing it again. Then her eyes narrowed and she said, “So I suppose you need to forgive me for marrying Tobias?”

“Don’t change the subject. If you ever really loved Tobias Snape, then I'm the sodding Prince of Wales. He made your life an absolute hell. And _I_ was the poor fool who had to stand by and watch it happen.”

"That animal tried to kill Severus, Mother. Kill him!”

“But Eileen," Leonora softened her tone, "unlike Tobias, it sounds as if he only tried once.”

Eileen's eyes were wild. "Yes, but unlike Tobias, Mother, I could do something to stop him!"

The room fell silent, and Eileen's dark eyes, so like her lay-about father's, so like Severus's, reflected raw pain back at Leonora.

“My dear darling..." Leonora reached across the table.

“Don’t come the concerned parent with me, Mother.”

“Eileen, please…” Leonora started, but at that moment both of their heads turned towards the front of the house. A loud, demanding chant seemed to be coming from the front garden.

“What is that noise?” Eileen said, as she rose to open the door. Leonora followed.

“It sounds like a parade, darling, but it’s the bloody middle of the night.” Leonora stood behind Eileen as she cracked open the front door.

Outside, about a dozen protestors were chanting, “The only good wolf is a dead wolf!” and waving hand-painted signs with slogans such as _No to Half-Breeds!,_ _Werewolf Isolation = Human Freedom,_ _His Next Victim Might be You!_ , and the dreadfully uninspired _Werewolves are Evil_.

Eileen burst out the door. “What are you doing here?” Her voice was ragged with rage.

The protestors stopped their chanting and sign waving, and Leonora was amused to watch each one of their mouths drop open in shock. She heard one young woman whisper, “I thought this address was familiar.”

“Mrs. Snape! What are you doing in there?” asked a young man who Leonora judged to be no more than twenty years old.

“This is my home, Marcus. You were just here for a meeting three hours ago, if you recall. Why have you returned?”

There was muttering in the little group, and someone shoved the boy Marcus forward. “We received a…tip, ma’am…that the werewolf, that Lupin, was at this address. Someone…saw him arrive…We didn’t realise…before we Apparated…that it was your house…or we wouldn’t have…” He was tripping over himself to back away from Eileen’s garden.

“That is utter nonsense. Get away from here. Get off my property, all of you. Now.”

“Of course, Mrs. Snape. Sorry, Mrs. Snape,” Marcus said, and a mutter of apologies followed the little group to the lane, where they quickly Disapparated.

Leonora leaned against the doorframe, watching Eileen’s hunched shoulders, and tried not to smile.

 

**Eileen**

Her heart would not stop pounding, and the hot sting of humiliation and fear was not fading, even after the protestors, supposedly _her friends_ , had gone.

Eileen looked back once at her rainbow-colored mother, who was standing in the doorway holding out her hand, then looked up at the curtained window behind which her son and the horrible creature were...oh gods. She could not breathe here anymore, so without another thought, she turned and ran in the other direction. Into the night.

 

**Remus**

The sound of raised voices woke him.

He did not know quite where he was at first, but one inhale and he knew exactly who he was lying next to, and his heart pounded against his ribs. It had not been a dream.

In the dark it was hard to see the still body beside him, so he ran a curious finger through the long, thin hair, and along the slope of his nose, and over the fresh scars, and into the indentation at the base of his throat. He lay awake for several minutes, just lightly touching, until the strange ruckus outside quieted, and sleep overcame him again.

 

**Eileen**

Running in a panic down the lane, Eileen realised she had no plan for where she was going or how she would get there. It was dark and raining, and she just needed to get away, from all of it, so she Apparated to the first location that popped into her mind, and then started walking, letting her sore, tired feet take her where they would. The pain of her aching joints was a welcome distraction from the other, deeper aches.

How had this happened to her? One week ago, she had been content in her simple, lonely life, happily removed from the chaos of her past and her perverse family, committed to her cause. She had finally achieved the order and peace she had always wished for, alone, just as she had always wanted.

It _was_ what she had always wanted.

Wasn’t it?

She wandered the country roads in a haze of confusion, until she was surprised to find herself standing, soaking wet, at the doorway to Pallspire Manor, her childhood home, fist poised to knock on the heavy wooden door. She had no idea how she had arrived there. Her feet had simply found the most familiar path home.

Before she could knock, the door was flung open.

“Miss Eileen!”

Eileen stared down at the small, wrinkled creature at her feet. “Jolly?”

“Oh, Miss Eileen, you have come home! Oh, how we missed you! It has been so long!” Jolly the house elf hugged her around the knees so hard that Eileen almost fell over.

When she was released, Eileen took a few tentative steps into the darkened foyer. The old place smelled just the same, musty and damp, with overtones of old wood, her mother’s incense and cigars, and Elphy’s excellent cooking. She had grown up in this smell. It smelled like the past. It smelled wonderful.

Eileen peered around the enormous space.

“Miss is very wet. Jolly will take your cloak and dry it for you!” Eileen hardly noticed the grappling hands that pulled off her soaked outerwear as she spun around taking in the familiar landscape of her childhood. Not a single piece of furniture had changed, although a few were out of place. She’d had no idea she would remember it all so clearly.

“Care for some tea, Miss?” Jolly asked, teetering under the pile of wet clothing.

As Eileen stared down at the little face she knew so well, her eyes grew blurry and a sudden lump formed in her throat. “I don’t know what I am doing here, Jolly,” she confessed.

“You never need a reason to visit, Miss Eileen!”

“Jolly,” Eileen asked in a sudden whisper, looking up at the ceiling, “do you think I was a good mother?”

Jolly paused, her wizened old eyes peering up at Eileen. “Hmm, well, would Jolly ask you to help with the baby if you were not?” Jolly dropped the wet garments to the floor and grabbed Eileen’s hand.

“Baby…what baby…?” Eileen asked, but Jolly was already pulling her up the stairs.

“Shh! He’s sleeping now, as is Miss McG, so lower your voice!” Jolly whispered.

Eileen gave up and let herself be dragged through the dark corridors, giving in to whatever it was that fate wanted with her this night.

 

**Severus**

It was the first time in over a year he had awoken feeling rested…no... it might be the first time he had _ever_ awoken believing that maybe, possibly, everything was going to be all right.

The sleepy body curled up against him, _Lupin’s body_ , he reminded himself, shifted in response to Severus’s stretching and turning until they were spooned together, Lupin’s arm draped over his waist. Severus stared out at the rain battering the window in the dark night, allowing his face to relax into a smile that he would never let anyone else see, until he drifted again into sleep.

 

**Eileen**

The baby’s tiny hands were clenched into fists and he was making a little sucking motion with his rosy mouth.

_Dreaming_ , Eileen thought, _of his mother_.

Jolly had left her alone to watch over him while she ran off to warm a bottle.

Eileen sat on the edge of the bed and stared at the infant, so peaceful, lying in Severus’s old crib.

This was that damned werewolf’s child. Twenty years of her life’s work had come down to this.

She had written to dozens of Ministry legislators over the years demanding immediate werewolf sterilization and confinement of all werewolf offspring to a special hospital unit until their maturity.

Now she reached out a crooked finger to touch the downy cheek of this baby, the child of her nightmares, and felt nothing but affection. He was just a tiny baby.

His fine blue hair was startling at first, but she had grown accustomed to it in their few minutes together, so when the little man opened his big eyes, stared intensely up at her, and then changed his hair color to match her black and silver, she almost screamed.

“Now how did you do that, little one?” Eileen asked, reaching out a stiff hand and tickling the baby’s round belly. He let out a little gurgle and kicked his legs and arms. Eileen smiled down at him before she had the chance to stop herself.

From the doorway, a small voice replied, “Jolly was told his poor mother was a shape-changer, before she…she…” She swallowed the rest of her words and walked back into the room holding a bottle and a pile of nappies. “He also likes Jolly’s ears. Don’t you, Mister Teddy?” As soon as the baby’s eyes fell on the house elf, his ears grew little points.

An unexpected wave of sadness passed through Eileen for this funny little baby who would never know his own mother. His tiny hand grabbed at her finger and held on. 

“Jolly, you may go now," Eileen said. "I will give him his bottle.”

 

**Remus**

Remus cracked open his eyes, awaking to a new world.

Thin morning light was filtering in through the curtains and imbuing everything in the room with a golden glow. He lay still for a moment, afraid that by moving he would break the spell, that yesterday would be snuffed out of existence, and today he would be again faced with the long and lonely slog of the rest of his life.

The mattress shifted slightly and a warm arm draped over his shoulders, and then Remus knew it was not a spell, or a dream, but that he was waking up next to Severus, and they were both alive, and Teddy was at Leonora’s, waiting for him to come home.

_I am alive,_ he thought, and for the first time, he believed it.

Remus pulled the draping arm more tightly around him and wound his coarse fingers through Severus’s thin long ones.

“Are you awake, Severus?” Remus asked, voice pitched low.

“No.” Severus’s voice was muffled against Remus’s back.

Remus smiled. Some things had not changed at all.

“When you wake up, I suppose we should…talk,” Remus said.

“Why?”

“Well…we didn’t last night.”

Severus nestled closer. “You married a woman and had a child. I killed Albus and was the Dark Lord’s right hand. What more is there to say?” he muttered. 

“Severus, I just…”

A bleary and miserable face appeared over Remus’s shoulder. “I cannot believe I was fool enough to be happy that you are not dead.”

Remus met Severus’s gaze, brows raised. “So your plan is we just pretend none of that ever happened?”

“No, Lupin." Severus flopped back onto the pillow. "My plan is that we sleep until a decent hour, and then spend the rest of our lives making sense of what happened last year.”

Remus let his face fall serious again, although his heart beat a little harder at _the rest of our lives_. “I just…wish you had told me what you were going to do.”

Severus lifted his chin and rested it on Remus’s shoulder. His eyes were unusually soft. “I did not tell you because until the last moment, I did not believe I would actually do it.” He sighed, and looked towards the window. “I intended to find you, after, but it was never safe, and then you were...no longer available.”

Remus closed his eyes. “Oh.”

“Yes.” Severus’s hand drifted into Remus’s hair. “So no talking.”

Remus nodded, and then turned his head enough so that he could crane up and brush a light kiss across Severus’s wide lips.

There would be plenty of time for talking. Later.

 

**Leonora**

Eileen had been gone all night.

At first, Leonora sat up at the kitchen table, sipping tea, resisting gin, waiting for her to return. Finally, exhaustion took hold and she curled up under a blanket on the sofa, leaving all of the house lamps lit.

Eileen had never done this to her before. All of her teenage rebelliousness had manifested in the form of slammed doors and secret journal writing and sullen silences and marrying against Leonora’s wishes, never staying out all night without a word. Leonora did not know how to properly handle the situation, especially as the rebellious daughter in question was sixty years old.

She woke, stiff and cross and still fully dressed, to morning light streaming in the windows. The storm had passed.

“Eileen, darling?” she called, but there was no reply, and all of the lamps were still on. Eileen had not come home. A chill crept up Leonora’s spine and lodged in her heart.

“Damn it, Leo Malfoy, you are too old for this nonsense,” she muttered to herself, and she eased her aching bones off the sofa and shuffled to the kitchen to put on the kettle.

An awkward _thump, thump_ drew her attention to the stairs.

“Severus?”

That dear boy Remus was holding Severus up, and together they were navigating down Eileen’s narrow staircase.

“Severus, darling! You are out of bed!” Leonora clapped her hands, and jingled her bracelets, and her aches and worries melted away as she dashed over to the stairs to assist. They had really brought him back. He would recover. She felt a rush of pride.

“Calm yourself, Grandmother,” Severus said, his voice shaky. “This was not my idea.”

“I insisted,” Remus said with a subtle smile, and Leonora took another moment to admire Severus’s stellar taste.

When they reached the bottom step, Leonora took Severus’s arm, and as a trio they hobbled to the sofa and installed Severus upright, with the support of some cushions, at one end.

“Well, darling, now what?” Leonora asked, sitting next to Severus on the sofa.

“As I was dragged down here, I suppose I could do with some breakfast,” Severus replied, breathing heavily from the exertion, dark eyes fixed on the man standing behind her.

“You do realize that the extent of my breakfast culinary skills is opening up a box of doughnuts and placing them on a platter. Or calling for Elphy. For you through, darling, I could attempt toast,” Leonora said, patting Severus’s leg.

“I’m no good in the kitchen either, Leo, but if we work together, we might avoid burning the place down,” Remus added from where he was standing, eyes still on Severus.

“I am sure that whatever the two of you manage to cook will put me right back at death’s door," Severus said, still staring at Remus.

_A joke!_ , Leonora noted with a smirk. _That’s a first._

“He’s hopeless in the kitchen as well, Leo, so don’t take these insults to heart,” Remus said, kind eyes still only for her grandson. Leonora looked back and forth between them, rolled her eyes, and then rose to drag Remus off towards the kitchen.

“Come along, my little lovesick puppy, before I vomit,” she teased.

“Grandmother!” That was Severus. Remus only grinned at her and followed her to the kitchen in search of bread and tea.

“Where is Mother?” Severus called suddenly, and Leonora winced. She’d forgotten for a moment that her daughter had disappeared. _Eileen is right about you, you old bag. What sort of a mother forgets that her daughter is missing?_ She paled.

“Oh, bollocking hell, boys, I don’t know how to tell you this. She ran off last night…” Leonora started, but then the front door creaked open.

 

**Eileen**

She must have fallen asleep at some point after Teddy’s second feeding, because Eileen woke up to thin dawn light filtering into the big guest room. It was a beautiful morning, quiet and still.

She could not remember when she had ever felt more peaceful, even though she was exhausted and achy and still wearing yesterday’s damp clothing. Something had happened to her in the night that had eroded some of the mountain of anger she had been living under for as long as she could remember. She felt hollowed out, but it was not an unpleasant sensation. She felt…new.

Eileen turned her head. Both Teddy and Jolly were sound asleep. The baby’s deep breathing was hypnotic, and she watched the rise and fall of his tiny chest for several minutes.

_Just like Severus_. Severus.

She rose quietly, took a moment to pull on her shoes and collect her cloak from downstairs, and Apparated home.

 

**Leonora**

Her daughter was home, and in one piece, if a bit bedraggled.

“Eileen Prince, don’t you ever scare me like that again! Out all night. Where were you?” Leonora heard herself say as she walked into the corridor. It sounded hysterically funny to her, even as she was saying it. She was ninety, for fuck’s sake.

“I’m fine, Mother,” Eileen said as she hung up her cloak. “Please. You have not known where I was for decades.”

In frustration, Leonora brandished the pair of tongs she was holding. She could not think of any reasonable reply to that other than, “Well. That’s true.”

“Is something burning?” Eileen asked, looking up suddenly, and Leo spun around in time to see a haze of smoke seeping out of the kitchen.

“The toast! Remus!” Leonora shouted, and she ran to the kitchen, her lavender robes billowing through the smoke, her bracelets jangling. Eileen followed.

In heroic calm, Remus had already opened the side door and was in the process of tossing several blackened and smoking pieces of bread outside onto the grass.

“That went quite well, I’d say.” Remus grinned at Leo, dusting carbonized crumbs from his hands, before he saw Eileen and his face went slack. “Mrs. Snape,” he said.

Leonora thought the silence would never end, as Eileen stared down the werewolf in her smoky kitchen, and the werewolf stared back.

It was Severus who broke the stalemate. “Mother? Have you returned?” his deep voice demanded from the other room, out of sight.

“Is Severus downstairs?” she asked, and both Leonora and Remus nodded. Eileen’s eyes widened as she looked towards the sitting room. Then she nodded at Remus. “Take him home to his child, Mother,” Eileen muttered, and Leonora noted that she was calling Remus _him_ and not _it_ today. “I need to speak with Severus.”

At the doorway to the sitting room, Eileen stopped and turned back, eyes to the floor. “I gave Teddy his last bottle at four o’clock, so he will be hungry soon. You should get back.” And then she disappeared into the sitting room.

 

**Remus**

Remus and Leonora stood in the middle of the smoky kitchen and exchanged confused glances.

“Eileen gave Teddy a bottle? How can that be?” Remus asked.

“I don’t know,” Leonora replied, eyes wide. “Jolly and Minerva will know. Let’s go and find out!”

Remus felt odd about leaving Severus without saying goodbye, but he suddenly did not want to waste another moment not holding Teddy, just as Eileen seemed eager for some time alone with her son. He’d had only a few joyful hours with his own boy the previous day.

Apparently, he and Eileen did have something in common.

They stepped over the burned toast in the garden as they Apparated away. Severus would just have to remain hungry for a little while longer.

 

**Eileen**

It had always been an unfortunate reality that Severus looked so much like his father.

When Tobias had keeled over and died of a massive coronary, Eileen had felt only relief and elation. He was gone, at last, taking all of his bitter cruelty with him, forever. She was free. Then fifteen-year old Severus had come home from Hogwarts for the funeral, and brought Tobias’s sneering face back with him, and Eileen wondered now if she had ever really forgiven him for that.

She sat on the edge of the coffee table next to Severus and stared at that face. For the first time in decades she looked for the parts of herself in him: his Malfoy mouth, and his dark eyes, and the point of his chin. Her son.

“Was it all my fault?” she asked.

Severus’s brows pulled together. “Was what your fault, Mother?”

“All of it? The way you are.” Eileen gripped her own hands together until the knuckles were white.

Severus was quiet for a long moment, his eyes like little black mirrors, like her own, and then he said, “Please, Mother. Don’t give yourself so much credit.”

Eileen _almost_ smiled.

They both sighed into silence. This was the moment, Eileen realised. Now or never.

“I’m just so worried that he will kill you,” Eileen blurted.

“Mother. He hasn’t killed me in twenty-five years, and he’s even had good reason to several times. Reasons that had nothing to do with his being a werewolf." His voice was light. He was trying. "Even more impressive, I have managed to not kill him.”

_Twenty-five years._

“Well, then…” it was harder than she expected to explain the fear that had lived in her for so long, “…he might kill me!”

“He might. But it seems unlikely, he’s really quite a passive push-over. And I assume you and your little group have heard of Wolfsbane?”

“There is no concrete proof that that so-called Wolfsbane potion works,” Eileen spouted. She’d written a pamphlet on this very topic the previous year.

Severus shook his head. “Don’t throw propaganda at me, Mother. I’ve brewed it myself for years. I’ve been in the same room with Lupin while he transformed dozens of times. You don’t have any excuses for disliking him anymore. Everyone that knows him thinks he’s a bloody saint.”

“I just wish he was not a man, Severus!” Eileen heard herself say it before she could stop her tongue.

The silence was long.

Eileen pressed her palm to her forehead. “Damn!”

“There’s nothing to be done about that part, Mother,” Severus said at last.

Eileen nodded. She could not look at him. “I know.”

“Is that what this has really been about all along?” Severus asked. “All the werewolf idiocy and the fear-mongering and alienation? Just excuses to avoid the fact that I’m a raging queer?”

Eileen didn’t know, so she didn’t answer. All she knew was that the hard anger that had been the core of her being for decades, and that had started to empty out of her during the night, wasn't there to buoy up her vitriol anymore. She closed her eyes.

_I did not bring you back to lose you again._

“I don’t know what to say, Severus.”

Severus sighed. He looked exhausted. “I do not know either.”

After another long silence, Eileen said, “Tell me about him. All I know is that he is…one of those things. Why don't you tell me something I would like about him.”

Severus looked up at her doubtfully, and then thought for a long time. Finally he said, “I’m not good at this sort of thing, you know.”

“What sort?”

“Saying nice things about someone.”

Eileen nodded. “I know. It's a family trait.” The corners of Severus’s mouth twitched, and then he fell to thinking again.

At last, firm determination in his voice, Severus said, “He doesn’t let me get away with it.”

“With what?”

“With being miserable.”

Eileen bit the inside of her lip to stop the little pool of tears that suddenly wanted to spill from her.

“That’s nice,” she said in a whisper.

“That too. He’s very _nice_. It’s actually quite annoying.” Eileen let out a choked laugh.

The silence fell again.

“I want to try, Severus.”

“Hmm.” He nodded.

That was that. Eileen knew that she would not lose him again. She could feel more of her bitterness melting away, and it was such a strange, unfamiliar sensation, she almost stood up to shake herself. Then she realized something she needed to add.

“But I do not want to see any of it…between you and him…hand-holding or kissing or…whatever other things that you do. I do not think I could…see that…” she said with a frown of disgust.

“Mother,” said Severus with a sneer, “Who do you think I am? I would never...hold hands," he shuddered, "...or do any such thing in front of anyone, much less you.” 

Then he reached out and took her hand, her old hand, stiff with age and experience, and held it in his own strong grip.

Her son.

 

**Severus**

It was like finding something he did not realise he had lost, or suddenly growing two arms when he had become accustomed to making it through life with only one.

His mother. She was going to try. He held her hand tightly, and could feel every bone.

They sat like that for a long time.

 

**Remus**

Somehow, Leonora had managed to convince them all to have dinner together.

Severus had been up and about for a week, coming and going between his mother and grandmother’s houses. Remus stayed at Leo’s with Teddy, Minerva, and the house elves. He’d introduced Severus to Teddy on his first visit, and the two had simply stared at each other for thirty minutes until Teddy’s golden-brown eyes changed to sparkling black and Severus looked annoyed. But at least it was a start.

Remus suffered through transformation at the Full, but it was no worse than usual. Maybe a little better, actually, now that he could use Severus's Wolfsbane brew again, rather than the generic from St. Mungo's.

No one outside of their small circle knew that Severus was alive. Everything would change when the truth was out, Remus knew, so he appreciated every moment they could just sit and be together, in the quiet calm before the storm. Between storms.

What with the baby, Severus’s injury, the Full, and the too-recent ache of Dora's death, he and Severus had done nothing more than lie in bed together at night and taken comfort in touches and kisses and being close, and that was enough for now.

Eileen had stayed at her house and avoided seeing Remus again, although Severus reported that she was asking after Teddy daily.

“She seems quite taken with the blue-haired booby,” he sniped. “I cannot imagine what she sees beyond the nappies and vomit.”

“I know you can’t,” Remus had replied, but he grinned as he looked away. He’d caught Severus letting Teddy hold onto his finger earlier in the day.

 

**Eileen**

Gertrude the owl made a second appearance in her garden, much to Eileen’s consternation, on a Tuesday afternoon. The note she carried read:

_Grow some balls, darling, and come and have dinner with us this Friday. Yes. All of us.  
Your loving mother, Leo_

Eileen thought over her reply long into the evening.

_I do not require male genitalia in order to be brave, Mother. You should know that.  
I accept.  
Your daughter, Eileen_

 

**Remus**

The dinner was going terribly.

Eileen, pinched and uncomfortable, would not look at him or speak, Severus was pale and equally silent, and Leonora would not stop talking about gay rights marches of the 1970’s. Only Minerva had managed to have a normal conversation with Remus across the table, asking him about Potterwatch and reminiscing about their former students. He rocked Teddy’s cradle with his foot as they ate, hoping his little sleeping man was not absorbing the miserable mood from the table above.

As the dishes were cleared, Remus decided he needed to take drastic action. He cleared his throat.

“Mrs. Snape?” he asked, leaning over so that he could see past Severus to Eileen’s stiff form sitting on his other side.

She looked up, startled, and said, “Yes?” The entire table froze to see what would transpire.

Remus swallowed. “Would you…would you tell me what Severus was like as a baby?”

Remus ignored the cutting glare Severus aimed at him. Then all eyes turned to Eileen.

“What sort of thing do you want to know?” Her voice was clipped and her lips made the same thin line that Severus’s did when he was worried.

“Oh, anything, really...Was he a fussy baby?” Severus tried to kick him under the table, but Remus laid a calming hand on his thigh and Severus stopped.

Eileen seemed to be thinking over the question for a long time, and the attention of the table did not waver from her for a moment.

“Not fussy, exactly,” she started, placing her fork down on the table, her gaze turned inward. “He was usually very quiet, always observing everything with this intense little stare. But when he was upset, you would know it. He had the loudest scream of any child I have ever heard. And I’ve listened for years. No other baby has ever come close.”

“That must have been difficult,” Remus said with a smile. Eileen did not seem to have noticed yet that she was having a conversation with Remus.

“No. Well, yes, it made Tobias livid, and he never was able to calm him down. But I always could.” The hard angles of Eileen’s face had softened as she spoke, and now she almost smiled.

“What would you do?” Remus asked.

Eileen’s voice was almost wistful. “I’d use these two fingers,” she held them up, “and rub them down the back of his neck, along all the little bones, over and over, very softly. He would just fall into this trance, and his mouth would form this little O, and his little head would fall forward. It made him stop screaming. It worked every time.”

Remus smiled and started to say, “He still loves th…” and then Severus elbowed him, hard. He had warned Remus that Eileen did not want to hear any details. Remus bit his lip and shook his head. “Sorry. Go on.”

Eileen did not seem to have noticed his slip-up. “Nothing else, really. He was a good baby.” Eileen’s voice grew very quiet and she stared at the empty plate in front of her. "At the time, he was all I had."

The room was silent for a moment, and Remus could feel each of them thinking over Eileen’s words.

Finally, Leonora broke the silence.

“Well! _I_ can certainly tell more stories about baby Severus if you’d like, my dear Remus.”

Severus’s head dropped into his hands and he muttered, “Oh no.”

“Where shall I start, Minerva? The time he took off all his clothes, grabbed his little red wagon, and walked all over the village asking for sweets?”

"That was humorous, my dear, but rather embarrassing for Severus," Minerva replied.

“Thank you, Minerva. Please. Grandmother.”

“What about the day we caught him into my make-up? He was quite clever with the lipstick. I might have a photograph of that one.”

“Oh gods.”

“Or the day he learned that he could levitate cash out of people’s wallets, and managed to steal all of your Great-Aunt Gladys’s money during tea."

"I cannot imagine who might have taught him how to do that,” Minerva muttered, the tiniest of smiles on her stern face.

Severus shook his head. Remus squeezed his thigh and tried not to laugh.

“I was so pleased with him that I took us all out for ice cream sundaes with that old biddy’s money,” Leonora concluded.

Eileen, her entire countenance now relaxed and calm, added, “Remus, as you might imagine, it was about that time that we moved away and did not see my mother for many years.”

It should have been a terribly uncomfortable moment, but somehow it wasn’t, and Leonora burst into laughter. The rest of the table, with the exception of Severus, followed suit.

“I’m glad you all find my life to be such a magnificent comedy,” Severus snapped, but his hand found Remus’s under the table and squeezed. Remus squeezed back. Eileen had called him _Remus._

Teddy woke up at the sudden noise and let out a squawk.

Eileen jumped up and was crouched beside the cradle before Remus could even lean down to pick him up.

“May I?” she asked, and Remus nodded. She picked up the startled baby and held him, bouncing him in her arms and walking around the room to soothe him. As dessert appeared on their plates, and the conversation at the table drifted onto a discussion of magical crimes and frauds, Remus kept one eye on Teddy and Eileen. His little man put his downy-blue head down on her chest and quieted easily.

Remus loved Teddy so much, he ached, and a sudden wave of intense grief for Dora washed through him. Only Severus's firm grip kept him steady.

"Teddy seems to have won over your Mum," he whispered, leaning over to Severus, needing to be close. He wanted to put his head down on Severus's shoulder, but he refrained, for Eileen's sake.

"Yes," Severus replied, looking over at Eileen and Teddy by the windows. "Lupins have that effect on the Snape family," he whispered, turning back to Remus. "No need to rub it in." Severus's lips brushed against Remus's ear as he spoke and Remus closed his eyes to revel in the warm sensation that ran through his body. 

"Jolly agreed to stay up with Teddy tonight," he murmured. Severus's warm breath quickened in his ear.

"Then eat your cake," Severus ordered, leaning back and grabbing his fork.

 

**Leonora**

Later, as she crawled into bed beside Minerva and draped her long arms around her, Leonora sighed.

"We did it, old lady," she said.

"Yes, my dear. We did," Minerva replied, and pressed a soft kiss to Leonora's cheek.

It was over. Decades apart. Over. Suddenly, Leonora couldn't hold back the flood, the pressure that had been wanting to break free since the first moment she had been called to Hogwarts weeks before.

She burst into messy tears and collapsed onto Minerva's old bones, holding her tight.

Minerva held her hard, and did not seem at all surprised by how long and hard Leonora needed to cry.

"I know, Leo. I know. It is wonderful to have her back," Minerva said as she wiped at Leo's tear-streaked face with her thumbs.

Leonora could only nod and smile and kiss Minerva's familiar lips. Eileen was home. Her girl was home. She had come home.

 

**Eileen**

It was very late when dinner ended, so Eileen agreed to stay the night at Pallspire, rather than bother with returning to her house. Leonora offered her her old room, which had long since been redecorated into guest accomodations, but which still featured her old bed and the desk she had used as a child.

She sat up at the desk long into the night, listening to the shiver of the trees in the night breeze and the creaking of the old house as it, too, tried to get some rest.

Antique parchment and several old quills still filled the little desk. With the light of the moon shining in the window, she picked up a quill and wrote a quick note.

_I respectfully resign from your organization, effective immediately. With no regrets, Eileen Prince Snape._

She whistled for Gertrude, who arrived at the windowsill and cocked her head curiously. It was very late.

"Take this to the headquarters of the New Moon Society, Gertrude." She tied the parchment to her leg and then scratched the old owl on the back of the head. "Don't wait for a reply."

Eileen watched as the magnificent bird took flight and circled up towards the moon, soaring away and out of sight. She sat at the window in the warm night air and stared at the moon for a long time.

It was beautiful.

**Author's Note:**

> FYI: These are the prompts that I used as inspiration. :)
> 
> Marauders-era: When Eileen finds out about the Prank, she launches a campaign to the Ministry to have all werewolves executed/imprisoned/denied education/[insert other bad thing here]. Either an established prior Snupin relationship, or one that develops during/because of her activism.
> 
> Eileen Snape is alive. So is her mother, Eleanora. Between them, they rescued Severus but he is unhappy. Eileen and Eleanora set out to find out why Severus is so sad, who is he is missing, and what they can do to fix it.


End file.
